Smooth Talking Stranger
by Ameiko
Summary: Western AU To save her family's ranch, Katniss has to put her faith in a stranger.
1. Chapter 1

Smooth Talking Stranger

I watched the riders approaching over the western ridge of my land with a grim sort of acceptance. Snow's men were coming to claim their "due." At best, I had thought that I'd get a day or two reprieve, but it turns out I wasn't that damn lucky. From the distance, I recognized the two of them. Cato and Marvel were the banker's favorite pets. Both of them were meaner than the day is long and dumber than tetched mules, but they did his dirty work for him with nary a complaint. They kicked up the dust from the tail as they reached the paddocks.

My sister Prim poked her head out of the doorway to see what all the fuss was about. "Everything all right, Katniss?"

"Go back inside, Prim, and keep Mama in there with you," I ordered as the pair dismounted.

"Some way to greet guests, Everdeen," Cato called out maliciously as he spat at the ground.

"Hell, you ain't guests. You're no better than thieves," I snapped, still perched on the fence post. I wasn't going to let those two shake me. Not that day, not ever.

Marvel chuckled as he dismounted. "If we's thieves then how comes the law is on our side?"

I didn't bother to say anything about how Snow had forced my half-mad, grieving Mama to sign those papers down at the bank or how he'd paid well to keep us from getting the supplies we needed in town. Everyone already knew that score, but no one was going to lift a finger against the man who brought the railroad to town. The train station wasn't more than a plain old wooden platform beside the rails was the only ray of hope this town had seen since before the war. What had once been a thriving farm region was dying day by day. The cotton farmers and ranchers who had once carved a living out of the area had left their fields and their herds to go fight the Yankees, and many—like my Pa and Gale—didn't come back. Snow came West from Georgia for the sole purpose of sucking the guts from this town, and there wasn't a damned thing anyone could do.

"You've got one hour to clear off of this piece of land, girl," Cato told me.

My gut clenched. "He said he'd give us a week."

"Now, that was before you opened that sass mouth of yours. Mr. Snow's got a reputation to uphold. Can't have no bad talk about him," he said smugly.

"Especially not from some half-breed," Marvel chimed in.

Insulting my father's Indian blood was the last straw. I lost my temper. Before I knew it I had jumped off of the fence and launched myself at Marvel. Using the length of rope I'd been holding as a whip, I lashed out at his face. I struck him once, but the second time, he was ready for it. He grabbed the coil, and pulled me off my feet.

"Looks like I get to teach this little one some manners," he laughed. Humiliation flooded over me as he brought over his knee.

"Get your hands off of that boy!" a strong voice called out. I managed to wiggle myself up enough to see a man on horseback with a gun pointed toward Marvel's head.

Cato stared the newcomer down. "Don't know you and I don't see how any of this is your business, mister. You might as well move along before you get yourself involved in somthin'."

"This is business because I have just purchased this land from Mr. Snow," the stranger said flatly. His accent only made his words sound more menacing. He pulled a piece of paper from his vest with his free hand waved it about. "I do not take well to men abusing children on _my _land."

I felt sick. Snow had sold my land! The piece of earth that my father had lived and died for was now the property of some foreigner. Marvel's grip loosened and I escaped his grasp only to find myself face down in the dirt—a fitting event, I realized. It was probably the last time I would get to see it, but I wouldn't cry. I jerked my hat down over my eyes as Cato examined the deed.

"Well, looks like this is right and tight. Bought yourself a fine piece of land, mister..."

"Mellark. Peeta Mellark," the stranger supplied, sounding more heavily accented than before. "As the new owner of this property, I would thank you to leave now."

Cato nodded. "Sure will do that, sir. Just after we clear out these squatters for you."

"Do not mistake me: I am concerned with only the two of you leaving. The boy and his family are welcome to stay, if they choose," Mellark said high-handedly.

"I'm not a boy!" I shouted, ripping the hat off my head to prove it.

His eye widened. "My apologies, ma'am."

Cato and Marvel hooted and guffawed gleefully. I glared at the pair, but knew it wouldn't do any good. "Not your fault," I grumbled. "I ain't real ladylike."

"Looks like you two are going to get along _real_ fine," Cato said sarcastically. "We'll just head on out. I'm sure you can find some use for Everdeen."

Mellark muttered something in another language that I am sure would have curled my sister's hair if she could've understood it. He watched the duo leave before dismounting. As he did, I noticed that he pulled a cane from his saddle bag, and leaned heavily on it. His eyes followed my gaze, but he didn't comment on how rude I was for staring.

"Miss Everdeen, was it?" he asked removing his hat. Without the hat shading his face, I could see how clearly how handsome he was. His cheek bones and jaw were well-defined and strong, but his blond curls and blue eyes gave him an almost boyish look. I didn't like that he was handsome. It would have been easier to hate him more if he was ugly as sin.

"I'm Katniss Everdeen, and I know you must be the spawn of Satan Himself to make a deal with Snow," I replied defiantly.

Mellark seemed unmoved by my insults. "Mr. Snow does not seem to be the endearing kind, but that does not matter. I purchased this land and everything that comes with it a week ago with the understanding that no one lived here. It seems I was misled."

"Damn right you were!"

"I am sorry for the distress you must be feeling," he said sincerely.

I bit my lip. For one brief moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of hope in my situation. Heck, I hadn't had hope since the day we got that letter saying Pa wasn't coming home. Things got even worse when Mama signed on the dotted line to borrow money from Mr. Snow—money that there was never any chance we could pay back. "So does that mean you'll head on outta here?"

"No." He shook his head. "I have invested a lot of money in this land—mine and my associate's. I cannot afford to take that kind of loss, but surely some arrangement can be made."

"I don't think so. If you'll give my family sometime to clear out our home, we can be on our way by sundown tomorrow." I didn't know how I was going to make it, but I knew I had to. I wasn't niave enough to not know what men meant when they said they could come to an arrangement.

"I meant what I said. You can stay here for as long as you need. I will not be responsible for leaving you homeless. Perhaps I could speak to your father?"

"Wish you could, but he's been dead coming up on four years now," I replied looking away.

Mellark sighed heavily. "How many of you are there?"

"Me, my sister, and our mother," I answered hesitantly. My mind instantly flashed to the colt that was sitting in my dresser drawer, and I wished I hadn't indulged Mama by not wearing it around the house. The sight of the gun disturbed her, but it would have made me a sight more comfortable dealing with this strange man.

"And you have been running this land on your own?" His brows shot up, and he looked impressed by the idea.

"As well as I could given the fact that we ain't got more than two bits to rub together," I acknowledged.

He scratched the golden stubble that graced his chin thoughtfully. "I know nothing about this land and nothing about raising cows."

"Cattle," I corrected him, suppressing a groan.

"Cattle," he amended with a smile. "Perhaps I could pay you for some time and knowledge?"

I eyed him warily. Though I wasn't a trusting person, there was something about Mellark that made me think he wouldn't try anything funny. The real heart of the matter was that I hadn't lied when I said that we didn't have any money, and even Haymitch wouldn't extend my credit any farther. I couldn't take Prim and Mama out into the open country with nothing more than the day or so of rations we could muster up. What choice did I really have?

"Can I think on it a spell?" I asked.

He nodded. "By all means, take your time. I do have one request though."

"Go on."

"I bought some food in town. Do you think that for a small fee and a share of the meal that your mother or sister would be agreeable to cooking for me?"

Looking back toward the house, I spotted two faces pressed to the windows. I wanted to wring their necks for not staying put like I'd asked, but I couldn't be too mad. The real danger had come and gone.

"My Mama is a real good cook," I agreed. "And you wouldn't have to feed all of us... just Mama and Prim, if you have enough."

He shook his head. "No, I have plenty for all of us. You will eat too or none of us will."

"Fine," I grumbled. "Stay here."

I stalked back to the house feeling only marginally better than I had when I had first seen Cato and Marvel. In truth, the situation was still bad. We had nothing. My whole life we had been poor, but we'd had the ranch and the promise of a better day. Now, I was watching the very last shred of my pride being stripped away. No matter how nice Mellark was, he couldn't change what was done. The worst part was that I couldn't even hate him for it. It wasn't his fault that we were in this mess, and I didn't even want to think of who had really gotten us there.

"Who is that man?" Prim demanded the very second I opened the door. "And what's to be done about the ranch?"

I couldn't bring myself to meet her eyes. "That man owns the ranch now. His name's Mellark, and Snow sold him the ranch."

"Sold!" Mama gasped, covering her heart with a trembling hand.

I nodded. "He's not making us leave just yet, but we've got to come up with a plan. He said he'll pay for you to cook him a meal—even said he'd be more than happy to share—and that will be a start."

Tears spilled out of Mama's big, blue eyes, and I tried not to resent her for it. After all, she had signed us up for this. She was almost as much to blame for it as Snow was. Prim put a gentle hand on her shoulder, and began murmuring reassuring words to her. Both my mother and my sister were ladies. They were pretty, blonde and delicate, but Prim had a hint of steel in her that Mama didn't. I left her to tend to Mama.

By the time I made it back out, Mellark had helped himself to the barn where he was brushing down his horse. I guessed that the barn was his, so it didn't make a difference, but it stung to see him there. His saddle and bags were laid on the ground in front of the stall, and I noticed that he had left both his cane and gun with them. To me, it seemed a foolish move to leave his weapon out of arm's reach when so much was uncertain around him, but it wasn't my place to train him up. Mellark would either learn to watch himself or Snow's men would put a bullet in him. It wasn't my concern.

"Mama'll cook for you. What did you buy?" I asked curiously.

Mellark smiled. "Have a look in the sack for yourself. I bought quite a bit, and she can make whatever she wishes. After so long traveling and the war before that, I have missed homemade meals."

"You fought in the war?"

"I did. I fought in the 58th New York regiment under Colonel Krzyzanowski until I was wounded in Gettysburg," he explained.

I sucked in my breath. "A Yankee."

"A Pole," he corrected with a chuckle. "Though I doubt that matters to you. I know that it only matters that I sided with the Union."

Crossing my arms over my chest, I suddenly felt a whole lot less liking toward him than I had before. "If you ain't from here, why even get involved?"

"Many reasons," he replied mysteriously. The smile was suddenly gone from his face, but I didn't think that had a whole lot to do with me. His eyes seemed far away. I had seen that look on the faces of the men who had come home with their uniforms and souls torn to bits. Yankee or Southerner, I supposed that there were some things that the war did to you that had very little to do with what side you were on.

"Did you mean what you said before about paying me to teach you to be a rancher?" I asked, changing the subject.

"I did," he confirmed.

"What if I don't like your terms?"

His blue eyes locked with mine. "What would you suggest?"

"I teach you to ranch and come along on your first cattle drive for a share of the profit," I hedged lightly.

"One fifth of the profit," he offered, shrewdly.

One fifth was being damn generous, and we both knew it. Perhaps too generous. "You're partner won't mind?"

Mellark shook his head. "O'Dair is a wise man. He'll see your value as I do."

I snorted. "We should have papers drawn up."

"We will when Finnick arrives in a few days. For now, we shake hands," he said holding out his. Mischief flashed in his eyes. "Or a kiss if you would prefer?"

"Hand shake does just fine," I snapped.

I clasped my fingers in with his, and gave a steady shake. This was more than likely a bad idea, but I had no choice. All I could do was put my faith in a smooth talking stranger and hope that it panned out.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note- A huge thanks goes out to Chelzie for betaing this and to Maltease for her character notes. Without these two, I wouldn't be posting this.

Chapter 2 (Peeta)

Katniss Everdeen. The name suited her – not very feminine, but still very pleasing. I sighed and stared back at the house she had disappeared into. Even then, I realized how foolish it was to like this woman and to offer her family sanctuary here. Finnick was going to regret sending me alone to this place, yet what was done was done. I could no more turn out this brave slip of girl and her family – who I spotted watching me from the windows – than I could turn a beggar away from the bakery door in the cold of winter when I was a boy in Poland. Both had consequences. Years ago, that had resulted in a harsh slap from my mother, but who knows what this new lapse would bring.

I grabbed my cane and hobbled out of the barn. Each step sent white hot shards of pain through my whole body. Usually the old injury doesn't bother me much, but hours in the saddle had left me in agony. Still, what I wouldn't give for a leisurely soak in a tub and a comfortable place to sit and rest. Instead, I washed my hands in the bucket beneath the pump before heading into the house. Despite years spent in the war and then on the road, I still had a shred of the manners that my mother had literally beaten into me and my brothers.

Knocking on the door, I did my best to conceal my discomfort. It would do no good to let the Everdeen women to know of the pain in my leg or the unrest in my mind. I had learned many years ago that it was best to wear a smile and push the clouds from your eyes. Charm was the best defense I had to my name, and I used it well on the small woman who opened the door.

"Please, come in, Mr. Mellark," she said hesitantly. Her wide blue eyes were heavily lined in the corners and her cheeks bore the hollows that spoke of many hard years, but I could see that she had been a beautiful woman once. If I had any doubts of that, I merely had to look at the girl standing at the stove to prove it.

"Thank you for your hospitality," I replied, removing my hat. "Please, call me Peeta."

She eyed me warily. "I'm Lilian Everdeen, and this is my youngest daughter, Primrose," she indicated towards the sweet looking girl at the stove, to whom I gave a curt bow. "You've already met my oldest."

"Your daughters have inherited their mother's beauty," I told her with a smile.

"Katniss didn't say that you were a snake oil salesman," Mrs. Everdeen teased with a small smile.

Primrose giggled endearingly. "She didn't say much at all about you. Where are you from, Peeta?"

"Poland," I answered, giving her a roguish grin. Some women were easily charmed by accents, and I had a feeling she would adore O'Dair if it weren't for his wife.

"Please, have a seat, Mr. Mellark," Mrs. Everdeen said formally.

I pulled up a chair to a table that was well worn, but still adorned with a thin table cloth. My eyes idly scanned the room. Like Mrs. Everdeen, the house was marked by poverty. The furnishings were sparse and for the most part, threadbare. A faded quilt lay across the back of an old rocking chair that had a sewing basket beside it. I spotted two doors along the far wall that I assumed led to the bedrooms. Despite this, the home was clean and well maintained. This must have been a very happy home at one point, I decided – nothing like the place I had left behind.

"And where is Miss Katniss?" I asked curiously as Primrose started to set the table.

Mrs. Everdeen pursed her lips. "Cleaning up. I won't have a hooligan at my table."

I nodded and opened my mouth to make some small talk when I caught Primrose staring at my outstretched leg and cane.

"Did you hurt yourself?" she asked.

"Primrose Everdeen!" her mother huffed.

"An old war wound," I replied with a smile. "It doesn't bother me very much, nor does talking about it. I simply do not move as quickly as I once did. But at least I can always knock on wood for luck," I joked, leaning down and doing just that beneath where my knee had once been.

The girl looked away quickly, but not before I'd seen the flash of discomfort cross her pretty features. It was a reaction that I had become quite accustomed, if not immune to, since the war. I wondered if the fact that I had been wounded while fighting for the enemy would have changed things between us; it certainly had with Katniss.

"Well, I am sure your Mama is just glad you came home," Mrs. Everdeen said with a haunted look. There was something breakable about the woman. The hollowness to her eyes reminded me of Annie O'Dair, and I hoped that I was wrong in making the comparison.

Suddenly, one of the doors opened and Katniss appeared. I blinked a few times, certain that I wasn't seeing the same tomboy I had met not an hour before. She was wearing a simple blue dress that was a bit too short for her, and her hair was braided and pinned up in an intricate knot. Her eyes met mine dead on. Her tanned skin made her eyes seem almost eerily silver rather than gray, a stunningly beautiful combination. For a moment, my thoughts scattered until she began tugging at the sleeves of her dress underneath my gaze.

"You look like you ain't never seen a girl before," she grumbled.

I grinned. "No, just surprised to see that you are actually a woman, not a girl."

"Call it what you will. I'm still not a lady," she muttered, looking away.

"And what if I beg to differ?"

Mrs. Everdeen cleared her throat and set a heaping plate full of ham and fried potatoes in front of me. "I was hoping that you would be so kind as to say grace."

I squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze. In the last seven years, I have not spoken to God once. It was a promise that I had made myself on the field in Gettysburg after I crawled to my brother's side and watched him die in agony from a wound to the stomach. Although I had prayed that day, God had not seen fit to answer that prayer, nor any of the ones made by the fifty thousand dead and dying men. God did not care about his creations, so why should I care for him? Despite my desire to please Mrs. Everdeen, I couldn't do it. I swore that I would never again bow my head to Him until I had proof that Divine Mercy existed.

"I am sure that your words would be much more pleasing to our Lord," I lied.

She didn't press the matter, and I lowered my head just enough to be polite as she spoke. I kept my mind blank of any religious feeling. Instead, I stole glances at Katniss from the corner of my eye as she sat beside me. Her gray eyes seemed to be doing the same thing. I don't think she even trusted me enough to close her eyes long enough to say grace.

"When did you say your partner should be here?" she asked before taking a bite.

"A few days, most likely. He wanted to take an easier pace with his wife and grandmother than what I had hoped for. Finnick O'Dair is a good man. I think you'll like him," I predicted hopefully.

Mrs. Everdeen bit her lip nervously. "I suppose we should ready the bunk house... that is, if you don't mind us staying on," she amended.

"No, I meant what I said when I told your daughter that you and your family are welcome to stay. When I purchased this land, I did not do so with the intent of sending you away homeless. All that I ask is that you accommodate Annie and Mrs. O'Dair until we can find something more suitable for us all. Finnick and I will be happy to remain in the bunk house," I explained.

Primrose giggled. "You only say that because you haven't seen the bunkhouse."

Actually, I had seen the bunkhouse. I had noted the decrepit looking old building on my way past the barn, and thought that we should tear it down. However, I had not truly considered how many people would be living on this ranch now that the Everdeen women were staying. I had increased the number of ladies depending on us to five without so much as a thought to the practicality of it. Finnick was not going to be pleased.

I shoveled a forkful of food into my mouth, chewing slowly to avoid any other questions. The fact that the trio of women around me were digging into their portions with such enthusiasm wasn't lost on me. I had seen enough half-starved men to recognize hunger when I saw it. I finished my plate, and Mrs. Everdeen moved to put another slice of ham onto my plate. Holding a hand to my stomach, I feigned fullness. "I am not sure I could eat it, and you took so little for yourself," I told her.

Katniss frowned. It didn't take a genius to see that she was warring between stubbornness and gratitude at the moment. I fought back the urge to encourage her to eat more as well, but knew that she was a proud woman. I respected her for it, because I knew that I was far from proud. I would sell my pride and my dignity if or when the time called for it. I already had once.

"I'll help you clear out the bunk house after dinner," she offered.

"I would appreciate the help. I was also wondering if it would be possible to ride out and see the land?" I asked.

"I think we'd best save that for morning. I'll show you the herd and go over some of the basics with you once Rory gets here," she answered, looking away.

"Rory?"

"Rory Hawthorne. The Hawthorne's land adjoins to ours, and we've been pitching in together on all of the work since our Pa bought this stretch. He'll not be happy that you're here."

I let out a snort of laughter. "I doubt he could be any less so than you are."

Katniss' gaze leveled with mine, but she didn't answer.

Once the dishes were cleared away, Katniss led me out to the bunk house. Mrs. Everdeen insisted that I take a pillow and pile of blankets out with me. She refused to believe me when I told her that the Texas autumn was far from cold enough for me to need them. Still, her kindness warmed my heart. It felt like it had been so very long since I had felt this kind of care.

The bunk house was in far worse shape on the inside than I had originally thought. It was a small, utilitarian building meant to house no more than perhaps four or five ranch hands. Judging from the dust and dirt covering the floor, I doubted anyone had lived in it for quite some time, if ever. Katniss began sweeping at the floor without a word as I surveyed the place. I stared up at the ceiling and noted the moonlight shining down from between the rafters. The bed frames lined up against the wall looked serviceable, and the cook stove in the corner appeared to be in good order. Between Finnick and I, we could surely fix it up enough to make the place livable. The mattresses, however, were too far gone to bother with. I pulled them to the side of the room, and tried not to shudder as insects crawled out of them.

"You sure about staying here?" Katniss asked.

I shrugged. "Perhaps I will stay in the barn tonight. I'm sure it is cleaner in there."

"The hayloft isn't so bad if you can climb up there with that leg of yours," she agreed.

"Wherever I sleep, I will manage just fine."

"I suppose you will."

The silence between us began to stretch on. I was no good with women like this. In the years since meeting Finnick, he had joked that his charm had rubbed off on me. I doubted that even he could breach the walls that Katniss had built up around her. I got the feeling that she didn't want to like me, and even more that she didn't care whether or not I liked her. Because I was providing much needed help for her family, she would tolerate me, but nothing more.

"I'll have Mama put a pitcher and basin on Pa's old shaving stand on the back porch. The pump is just over yonder." She hooked a thumb back by the house.

"Thank you for your hospitality," I murmured softly.

Fury drained the color from her eyes, and she glared at me. "Let's get this straight, Mellark. It ain't hospitality. You bought this place from Snow right out from under us. It might be legal and you might not have known about us, but don't think for one minute that you are wanted here."

"Like it or not, Miss Everdeen, I am here to stay," I replied, feeling the prick of anger rising inside me. "I will be as kind or harsh as you decide you will allow for now. I don't like what Snow did to you, but there is little I can do about it at this point. Hate me for it, if you will, but do not mistake me for someone weak."

"Go to Hell!" she spat out as she stomped out of the bunkhouse.

I made no move to go after her. Instead, I stood in the darkened room and let out a dark laugh. Little did she know that she was wishing me back to a place that I had already escaped and climbed out of. It was a darkness so deep and engulfing that I doubted that she could ever fathom its depths, and no amount of wishing on her part would ever see me back there.


End file.
